The food of love
One of the worst things about Trev being gone was the fact that now I had to tell my daughter that I’d lied to her – not just a little lie, but a whopper that had lasted her entire life.
The only way out was to rustle up a delicious beef stew, which would dazzle Beth and her husband Matt. They were arriving in two hours and would expect a feast, especially on such a dreary Sunday.
A feast was unlikely, though – I hadn’t cooked properly for years, and all the food I touched went black. Unfortunately, Beth saw me as supermum and masterchef extraordinaire – no thanks to me!
The first two weeks after Trevor left, I’d made excuses for not inviting Beth over. ‘I’m not feeling up to company,’ I’d told her, or ‘Aunty Marge has invited me for dinner.’
The third week of Trevor’s absence, I’d treated Beth and Matt to a carvery, but Beth had said, ‘The food isn’t
